


Mikoto's Legacy

by PitaC89



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, always a girl Yata
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitaC89/pseuds/PitaC89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As his Sword of Damocles continues to deteriorate, Mikoto thinks on what he wants to leave behind besides a giant crater. To this end he asks his loyal vanguard to perform one last service for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I posted the idea for this story as a prompt on the kink meme, but when it went unfilled I decided to fill it myself.

The Kagutsu Crater Incident. The disaster that had left a scar on the collective consciousness, with the sheer destructive power of a Sword of Damocles falling, annihilating everything within miles of his predecessor, and killing hundreds of thousands.

He knew exactly how far gone he was. He’d seen his Sword of Damocles and he’d felt his powers begin to break free of his control. If the search for the Colorless King didn’t get him killed the old fashioned way that would be his fate. The Red King would once again bear the responsibility of so much destruction.

Mikoto stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray that was sitting on the bar by his elbow. His future could be measured in months if he was lucky, but more likely he had mere weeks before his limits were reached. He only hoped that his clansmen were at a safe distance when it came crashing down. Someone needed to be left to take care of Anna.

“Mr. Mikoto?”

Yata had sat down on the stool next to him sometime in the last hour. This was the first she’d spoken since he’d become lost in his doubts four cigarettes ago. For an instant he can see the line of blood left on her cheek by Tatara’s last attempt comfort her as his life faded. Then the image is gone and he’s left with his vanguard’s worried but clean face.

Tatara’s death had taken its toll on all of Homra. He forgot that sometimes. Then little things would remind him, like the look in Anna’s eyes or Yata’s burning silences. For a time, grief had made Yata physically ill, making Chitose wonder aloud whether she was pregnant and for a brief moment he had hope that maybe Yata and Tatara’s relationship went beyond playful ribbing and shared laughter. That maybe Tatara hadn’t been lost completely. But with a few simple words—No, Mr. Mikoto, Mr. Totsuka and I were only friends— Yata had crushed that foolish hope.

A child… Would his wishes be enough to hold his clansmen together when he was gone? Would they stay for Anna? Kusanagi would provide for her, but Homra was her family and she would need them all. Anna had lost one family already, and then Tatara who he’d soon be following. There were also those like Eric, for whom Homra was all they had. And Yata who, while it could be argued that she had Fushimi outside of Homra, was better off with her fellow clansmen.

His clansmen needed one another. But would they stay united without him? If they had something of him to hold on to—like he wished they had of Tatara— that could hold at least the core members of Homra together. And if the core remained, the others would have a place to go should they need it.

Mikoto reached out and took Yata’s hand. She blushed, but didn’t pull away.

Yata’s loyalty was unquestionable, not only to him but to her fellow clansmen as well. She’d stayed even after Fushimi’s defection, when others had wondered if she would follow her oldest friend into the arms of Scepter 4. He appreciated her loyalty enough to track down Fushimi and warn him that Yata was off limits after the man had continued to seek her out to torment her after his betrayal. When that hadn’t worked he’d sucked it up and gone through Munakata to keep Fushimi away long enough for Yata to get back on her feet.

She would do anything he asked of her. Usually, out of respect for the power she’d given him over her, he asked nothing more of her than what he expected from any of his clansmen. But with time running short, she would be the best choice for what he had in mind. 

He stood pulling Yata to her feet as well.

Kusanagi stared at them over the bar, his gaze holding a warning that Mikoto ignored. The rest of his clansmen were caught up in some game in the corner, and paid no attention to them as they headed for the stairs. Almost past the threshold he felt eyes on him and knew Anna had shifted her attention from her near constant search for the Colorless King to him. He would speak with her later. There were things she would need to know, plans she needed to be made aware of.

*** 

An hour later found Mikoto lying awake in his bed, cigarette hanging from his lips. Yata lay sound asleep beside him.

As he’d thought, Yata hadn’t refused him. And she’d agreed to keep him company in his rooms for as long as he needed it. He intended to have her come back again tomorrow night. He couldn’t stake his plans on one encounter. Fate was never that kind.

Mikoto tapped his cigarette on the lip of the ashtray on his bedside table. Beside him Yata sneezed. She had never tolerated cigarette smoke well, and though she liked to sit close to him whenever they were both in the bar, he got the sense that that she wasn’t fond of the scent that lingered on his clothes. Fair enough, Tatara hadn’t liked the smell either.

Yata was a good choice, not merely because she was the only real option. Her fiercely protective nature was one of her more admired traits among his clansmen. Her strength was evident simply by her survival in his world, and by her refusal to be broken by the betrayal of those closest to her. Yata’s interactions with Anna showed some nurturing instinct, even if their relationship didn’t reach the level of mother and daughter, or even of sisters.

Yes, Mikoto was satisfied with his choice.

 

*** 

Yata stood with the rest of her helpless clansmen as their King’s Sword began to fall. They were too close, when the Sword hit, they would die along with their king.

Yata felt a pang in her chest. Mr. Mikoto hadn’t wanted this to be how it ended. Hadn’t wanted Anna to be anywhere near him if the Sword of Damocles came crashing down. Her King’s last few seconds wouldn’t be the peaceful, almost joyful anticipation of his reunion with Mr. Totsuka that she was sure Mr. Mikoto would have wanted them to be. Tears began to trickle down Yata’s cheek.

Then, miraculously, the Sword disintegrated just before impact.             

And Anna began to scream.

***

“You could have stopped this. It didn’t have to be this way,” Munakata said, sword buried deep in Mikoto’s chest.

Mikoto smiled. “Yes it did.”


	2. Wake

The barroom was full well past capacity with loud clansmen, but today Kusanagi didn’t mind. They all had a right to be here tonight, and Mikoto deserved to be sent off in style.

Munakata had finally authorized the return of Mikoto’s body three days before. It had only taken Kusanagi a few hours to arrange for their king’s funeral, and the cremation had been completed earlier in the day. Tonight, they celebrated their king’s life.

Kamamoto was entertaining a group in the corner with a fictitious story about how he saved Mikoto’s life during some encounter with the Blues. Yata was helping herself to a third helping of whatever was on whichever tap she came to first.  Eric and Kousuke were playing cards with Bandou, and Anna was watching them all through one of her marbles.  

Kusanagi had been keeping a close eye on Anna all evening. She seemed to be doing better now than she had been while Scepter 4 was still holding on to Mikoto’s body, but that wasn’t saying much. For all intents and purposes Mikoto had been her father, and Anna had already lost one of those before.  Tomorrow he would need to see to the instructions for her care that Mikoto had left. Mikoto hadn’t made a will, since all he really had to his name was a single bank account and Anna, but Kusanagi knew that Mikoto had gone and had something notarized a few weeks before his death.   

A flash of movement brought his attention back to Anna. The girl was halfway across the barroom before he had time to wonder what she was up to. She ducked behind the bar, pulling one of the stools behind her. Still curious to what exactly the girl was up to, Kusanagi didn’t stop her as she climbed up on the stool and grabbed a beer mug off the shelf. Anna set it on the counter, and then carefully climbed down from the stool. Once her feet were firmly back on the floor, Anna took the mug in her hands and held it out to Kusanagi.

“Some of that please,” she asked, nodding toward the tap.

Kusanagi was still somewhat lost as to what Anna was thinking, shook his head. “You’re not old enough for that, Anna.”

“Neither is Yata, and she’s already had three glasses full.”

Ah, so that’s where this was going.

“Yata’s a big girl, Anna,” Kusanagi replied. “She knows her limits.”

Yata, with her third glass sitting empty in front of her, huffed. “I’m done growing Anna, you’re not. Beer isn’t good for growing girls.”

Anna shook her head. “If Yata can have three glasses, why can’t I have one? Yata’s not that much older.”

“Yata’s switching to tea now anyway.” Kamamoto plucked Yata’s glass off the bar, and replaced it with his own glass of tea.     

“Hey, give that back!”

“Shut up and drink your tea, Chihuahua,” Eric said. Other members of Homra joined in with similar sentiments.

“Three glasses really is enough for someone your size,” Kamamoto insisted. “And we all need to set a good example for Anna.”

Around the bar glasses and bottles vanished from sight among murmurs of discontent. Chitose downed what was left of his in one swallow before upending his glass on the table. Eric pushed his cup to the side and went back to studying his hand of cards, while Kousuke reluctantly handed his glass over as Kamamoto began to make his way around the room collecting the cups.

Once the last glass was emptied down the sink, Anna handed her mug over with no fuss.

***

Yata hated how Kamamoto took his tea. It was too milky and not sweet at all.

Though she wouldn’t admit it, her head was fuzzy from the beer. Kamamoto was right that she didn’t have the size or bulk to be a heavy drinker, even the weak beer Mr. Kusanagi kept on tap was too much.

       The alcohol wouldn’t help anyway. Mr. Mikoto had avenged Mr. Totsuka, and hadn’t sacrificed a single one of his clansmen in the process. It was how Mr. Mikoto had wanted things to be. That didn’t change the fact that he was gone, and getting drunk wouldn’t help her forget it.

Yata should be thankful Kamamoto was forcing her to switch over to tea. The others were already giving her strange looks because she had broken down and sobbed after Mr. Mikoto’s sword vanished. She didn’t need to get drunk and make a further fool of herself.

She took another sip of tea, and grimaced at the taste. There was no pleasant numbness to go with the fuzzy feeling. Just that ever present weight that had settled in her chest when she threw open that door and saw Mr. Totsuka lying in a pool of blood. She’d only just stopped getting sick every time she remembered the feel of Mr. Totsuka’s blood on her face, how it had soaked through her shirt and coated her chest with a disgusting layer of coppery liquid.

Yata’d realized the first night Mr. Mikoto asked her to join him upstairs, just how deeply losing Mr. Totsuka had cut their King. That he intended to die once the Colorless King was taken care of. That was why she couldn’t deny his request. The gossiping men she called her fellow clansmen had always debated whether she and Saru were more than just roommates, and even Mr. Mikoto had thought she was sleeping with Mr. Totsuka. But no, she didn’t lose her virginity until Mr. Mikoto. How could she? Saru would never touch her, and anyone who showed an interest before she joined Homra had quickly been introduced to Saru’s knife fetish. And after Homra… well, a girl who could hold fire in her hands made men nervous.   

The last of Kamamoto’s tea went down with a swallow and a grimace. “Can I get something that doesn’t taste godawful?”

“Like the beer was so great,” Eric muttered.

“That beer was imported from Germany,” Kusanagi said.

“It tasted like Windex.”

Yata couldn’t argue with that. Judging by the murmurs of agreement, nobody else could either. A glass of water appeared in front of her, and she figured that was the only thing Kusanagi would be willing to serve her for the rest of the night.

  Looking around, Yata noted that Anna had disappeared. It was after midnight, so Anna was probably off getting ready for bed. Mentally, Yata wished her sweet dreams, but doubted any of them would sleep well for awhile. Mr. Mikoto might be at peace, but the rest of them weren’t.

Deciding it was probably time to head out herself, Yata pushed herself off the barstool and tried to stand. After a wobbly start, she got her legs firmly under her. She nodded to Kamamoto as she made her way to the door.

“Wait!”

Yata froze and every head in the turned toward stairs.

“Who…?”

There was a little boy standing there with a duffle bag at least as large as the child over his shoulder. But his voice, Yata could have sworn…

“Anna?” Kusanagi sounded lost, but Yata was just as confused, so yeah. “What are you wearing?”

A red hoodie and shorts three sizes too large if Yata had to guess. Actually, she was pretty sure Anna was wearing a pair of shoes that Yata had forgotten at the bar last week too. She resembled any number of boys that frequented Yata’s apartment complex,

“Anna,” Bandou spoke up, “just because Yata’s technically a girl, doesn’t mean she should be your role model.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with the way I dress?!”

Nobody dignified that with a response, and if Yata wasn’t so unsteady on her feet she would probably be punching a few people.

“I was wondering about the bag myself,” Kamamoto said. “Are you planning a trip Anna?”

Anna shook her head. “I’m going with Yata.”

Yata felt the need to sit down. So she pushed Chitose out of his chair and took it for herself. “Umm, what?”

Anna skipped down the last few steps and was at Yata’s side before she answered. “Mikoto said if anything happened to him, I was going to live with you.”

“Does that strike anyone else as questionable judgement on our King’s part?” Chitose asked, still sprawled on the floor.

“Maybe he thought Yata’s motherly instincts would make her the best candidate for taking care of Anna,” Kamamoto said.

“Yata? She’s only a girl because she has the parts, not because she actually is one,” Bandou insisted.

Flame sprang to life in Yata’s clenched fist. “What?!”

“Not in my bar!” Kusanagi yelled. “And Anna isn’t going anywhere tonight, especially that cesspit Yata lives in.”

“It’s not a cesspit,” Yata muttered.

“Last time I was in that neighborhood I saw five prostitutes and two drug dealers,” Kusanagi said.

“Kaho’s girls are good people, and I chased those dealers off ages ago,” Yata argued.

A moment of silence followed.

“You know your local Madame by name?” Chitose asked.

“She’s my neighbor and some of the local guys try to give her trouble. I make sure they leave her alone.”

“So you moonlight as a bouncer for a whorehouse?”

“Not the point,” Kusanagi interrupted. “Anna’s not going anywhere tonight. Mikoto left some documents in the safe that I’m going to look over tomorrow. We’ll go from there.

“Anna, take that bag back upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute to help make up the bed in the blue room. Yata, you’ll be staying the night.”

“What?”

“Anna seems to think Mikoto wanted you to act as her guardian. If nothing else, you can stay the night for her sake.”

“But the blue room?” Mikoto’s room.

“It’s right next to Anna’s.”

And where she’d slept most nights since Mr. Totsuka died. Kusanagi didn’t say that part out loud, but she knew he knew.

Kusanagi sighed. “For tonight. If you need to stay longer we can shuffle rooms.”

“Stay longer?”

“I meant what I said. Anna isn’t going anywhere near your neighborhood. If Mikoto did leave you custody of his daughter, _our princess_ , you’ll be finding new accommodations in a better part of town.” 

***

After Yata and Anna disappeared upstairs for the night, the atmosphere in the bar turned speculative. Many of the more periphery members of Homra had left for the night, leaving only the regulars behind.

“So, Yata and Mikoto, huh?” Chitose asked.

“Looks like,” Kousuke agreed.

“They were sleeping together, yeah. But I didn’t think it was serious,” Souhei said.

Kamamoto remained silent, glaring at his drink.       

“They weren’t serious, not on Mikoto’s part,” Kusanagi agreed. “And I doubt Yata considered it a relationship either. Despite her appearance, she’s a grown woman. She knows what she’s doing …most of the time.”

“If she didn’t mean anything to him, why did he leave her Anna?” Kamamoto asked. “Yata is my friend, my sister. If he took advantage of her like that—”

“Were you not listening to me? Yata’s not some naive innocent—”     

“How do you know that?!” Kamamoto stood, his chair screeching as it was pushed back. “Yata worshiped Mikoto. How could she possibly tell him no?”

“Give her some credit. She’s loyal to a fault but if he’d tried to force her to do anything she didn’t want, she’d have brought the building down on his head.”     

Kamamoto didn’t look convinced. “Still, she’s our sister. How could Mikoto even ask her that?”

Kusanagi sighed. “I don’t know why Mikoto risked so much just for a few weeks with Yata. Especially when he was the one who warned everyone off after things ended so badly between her and Fushimi.”

“I thought it was because he had a thing for her,” Chitose said.

Kusanagi shook his head. “You saw how bad things got after Fushimi left. Yata was picking fights with anyone just for the hell of it. Mikoto had to bail her out of jail twice in under a month. Then she ended up in the hospital, those two Scepter 4 guys ended up with third degree burns, and Tatara and I had to go grovel to Munakata to get the charges dropped. After that we couldn’t let Yata go anywhere without Kamamoto, and Mikoto decided Yata was off limits to everybody.”

“Yata really burned the Scepter 4 guys that bad?” Kousuke asked.

“No,” Kamamoto answered. “Mikoto did that. He tracked them down after we got Yata back from the hospital. We’ve all seen what kind of damage Yata can take. You don’t put her in the emergency room by accident.”  

“Luckily Munakata agreed, which is why our King wasn’t tossed in a cage at Scepter 4 and left to rot,” Kusanagi said. “Anyway, we can go round and round about what Mikoto was thinking in those last few weeks, and still not have a clue. For now, we need to focus on taking care of Anna.”

“And Yata?” Kamamoto asked.

“Yata’s one of us. If she’s struggling, we’ll be there for her.” Kusanagi paused. “We’ll need to stick together.”  

Eric frowned. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Kusanagi shook his head. “Just a thought. Anyway, I’m sure you’re all tired, so let’s finish this in the morning. You can stay here for the night if you want.”

“Do we get our own rooms?” Bandou asked.

“You can fight over the couches. If I catch anyone sleeping on my bar, they’ll be scrubbing floors for the next three months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to keep the updates less than a month apart. While the chapters aren't that long, I like to go back over them to improve their quality before posting.


	3. Building

 

            When Kusanagi sat down to read what amounted to Mikoto’s last will and testament, he’d been pretty sure what it would say. Mikoto wouldn’t lie to Anna, but Kusanagi couldn’t believe he would leave Homra’s volatile and immature vanguard with sole custody of their princess. Kusanagi guessed that there would be some sort of joint custody between himself and Yata. Give Anna the traditional household with a mother and father—and if Kusanagi ever had to imagine Yata as his wife again he would gouge his own eyes out with a corkscrew, might as well save Fushimi the trouble— and a sense of stability. 

            What Kusanagi found, however, was something different. Mikoto had left Yata everything. He’d left her Anna, a bank account with all of 40,000 yen in it—more than Kusanagi thought Mikoto had but still what was Yata going to do, buy groceries for a couple weeks?—, and his rooms above Homra—which were Kusanagi’s to begin with thank you very much, just because he let Mikoto use them rent free didn’t give him the right to will them away.

            Kusanagi sighed. He’d been planning on having Yata stay at the bar for awhile anyway. He didn’t want to give special treatment to anyone, they were all grieving Mikoto, but Yata had a history of not taking loss well. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened after Fushimi left. Especially since with Mikoto gone, he’d be the one bailing her out of jail or putting the fear of Homra into whoever thought she would make a nice punching bag after she’d worn herself down past being able to fight anyone off.

            Still, last night Yata had looked genuinely terrified at the prospect of being responsible for Anna. Yata was only nineteen and utterly terrified of committing to something other than Homra. And her idea of age appropriate entertainment was taking Anna to the arcade to play first person shooters while screaming expletives at the enemy avatars on screen.       

             Oh god, Yata was going to be Anna’s new role model. What was Mikoto thinking?

            His inner turmoil was interrupted by the clunk of sneakers on the stairs. Kusanagi drew a fortifying breath, expecting Yata to finally make an appearance. Instead, Anna was tromping down the stairs in a horrible imitation of Yata’s gait.

            Apparently Yata had already had too much influence on Anna.

            “Anna, why are you wearing those clothes?”

Anna blinked up at him from under the brim of a baseball cap he was sure belonged to Shouhei. “They’re comfy.”

            “So, your dresses aren’t comfortable?”

            “They’re nice but I think I like these better right now.”

            “Right now?” Oh. Mikoto had bought her those dresses, back when she first came to stay with him. He’d spoiled her, buying her anything she’d wanted, including custom made dresses to replace those godawful blue ones she’d worn when she first came to Homra.

            “Besides, Yata always dresses like this.”

            “Yata’s been known to burn her clothes right off her back, nice clothes would be a waste,” Kusanagi pointed out. And hadn’t that been a day? Chitose realized that Yata was a girl— previously mistaking her for a twelve year old boy—, Fushimi had threatened to cut out everyone’s eyes if they didn’t stop staring at his Misaki that instant, and Yata—at that point clad only in Kamamoto’s jacket—broke Chitose’s nose after he made a pass at her while trying to get another look at her breasts. To date, Yata remained the only member of Homra to burn through an entire set of clothes while they were still on her body. Chitose had burnt his shirt off once, but considering he got a date out of it Kusanagi suspected it was intentional.

            “And Yata’s clothes are more practical.”

            “Practical how?” Kusanagi didn’t like where this was going. Best case was Anna was about to announce she wanted to take up skateboarding everywhere and come home every day with new and interesting scars. Worst case...

“When she has to fight,” Anna said, climbing on to one of the stool with some difficulty. Another glance at her shoes told Kusanagi they were at least a size too big.

 “You want to learn how to fight?” Worst case scenario, it was always the worst case scenario.

Anna nodded. “Mikoto showed me how to throw a punch without breaking my thumb but he didn’t have time to teach me anything else.”

Damnit Mikoto. “And why did Mikoto think you needed to learn how to fight?”

“So I can protect Yata.”

Oh good god. “Don’t… say that in front of Yata, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, how about some breakfast?”

***  

  There was already a group gathered at the bar when Yata made her way down. It looked like no one had bothered to go home last night after Mikoto’s sendoff party.

“The sleeping beast finally awakes,” Chitose greeted.

“I think you’re mixing up your fairytales.” Kamamoto wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, and his eyes were bloodshot, though Yata knew he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol last night. She guessed he just hadn’t slept well.

“She’s not exactly a beauty though.”

“The beast turns into a handsome prince at the end,” Anna, wearing one of Yata’s missing shirts, spoke up.

“Well she’s not one of those either.”

“Is there any breakfast left, or can I throw Chitose out the window now?” Yata asked.

“That window is worth more than you are,” said Kusanagi.

“I saved you some food, Yata,” Anna offered up a plate stack high with a variety of Yata’s favorites.

“Good girl,” Yata muttered, taking the plate and patting Anna on the head. “Is that Shouhei’s hat?” 

Shouhei gave a little moan in the corner, clutching his bare head. Huh.

“Since Yata’s here now, I guess you all want to know what Mikoto’s will said.” Kusanagi asked.

“Not particularly,” Yata said.

“Too bad. You now have sole custody of Anna.”

And suddenly Yata didn’t feel liked eating anymore. “What?”

“Mikoto named you as Anna’s sole guardian, left you his rooms and maybe enough money to buy her some new clothes.”

Anna blinked up at him while her hands continued to fiddle with the belt that was the only thing keeping her shorts firmly at waist level. “What’s wrong with these clothes?”

“I hope you have a job, because despite her size, Anna does eat quite a bit.”

Yata stared. Sole custody? Job? Clothes and food? “What?”

“A job, Yata. Where you perform a service and receive monetary compensation in return. Shut up, Chitose.”

Chitose closed his mouth.

“Miss Kaho pays me a little bit to keep an ear open when I’m at home,” Yata said. “Shut up, Chitose”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Kusanagi sighed. “I’d rather you not be working in a brothel in any capacity. I’d offer to let you wait tables here, but business is always slow in the winter and you spend more time chasing off Kamamoto’s fangirls in the summer than you do actual work.”  

 “The café on 8th is hiring,” Kousuke offered.

“So is the Naughty Neko,” said Chitose.

“Yata’s not going to work at a strip club,” Kusanagi sighed.

“I’m not a stripper!” Yata growled.

“Seriously, you could do that thing where you set your clothes on fire. It’s really a turn on,” Chitose continued. A disbelieving silence followed. “What?”

Kusanagi dropped his head in his hands. “Please tell me you haven’t actually been fantasizing about that.”

“What, I said she wasn’t a beauty, not that she wasn’t sexy.”

“Dewa,” Kusanagi said.

“I’ll shove this teacup down your throat if you don’t shut up, Chitose,” Dewa threatened dutifully.

 “The delivery place a few blocks over is offering good hourly wages with no experience required,” said Eric. “If Yata can find a bike and make a good impression on the manager, she shouldn’t have a problem getting the job.”

Kusanagi nodded. “At least someone has something useful to contribute. Yata, I have a bike in storage. You can go over this afternoon and talk to the manager.”

“Don’t forget the helmet,” Anna said.

“Do I get any say in this?” Yata asked.

“No.”

***

A few hours later Yata had a job delivering packages four days a week. By the time she made it back to the bar most of her things had been moved into her new room at Homra thanks to the guys. After yelling at Kusanagi for awhile she hauled Kamamoto—the only one of her clansmen she trusted around Miss Kaho—back  to her apartment and made him take over her lease so someone was there to look out for Miss Kaho and her girls, and also to keep those dealers from coming back.    

As a tacit apology for helping Kusanagi uproot her entire life while she was out, Kamamoto didn’t complain too much about having to move himself. Or maybe he was just happy his girlfriend/stalker would have to walk all the way across town if she wanted to bring him lunch now. Hm…

“You’re buying me lunch,” Yata decided, after she’d finished introducing Kamamoto to Miss Kaho.

“Why?”

“Because I’m hungry. And broke. And I still have to get Anna new clothes so she’ll stop stealing everyone else’s.”

Kamamoto sighed. “What do you want?”

***

“Did you really need three burgers?” Kamamoto asked.

Probably not. Yata was only halfway through her second burger and already full. Usually she could eat more. Maybe her appetite was just gone. It had disappeared for awhile after Mr. Totsuka died. Then again, that was mostly because she could still feel his blood soaking into her skin and remember the way his body went cold in her arms. The effect the memory had on her had lessened over time, and her appetite had since returned.    

“Here,” she said, handing over her last burger and her untouched fries.

Kamamoto took them warily. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Still full from breakfast I guess,” Yata replied with a shrug. Anyone else would have believed her, but Kamamoto knew her too well. He also knew her well enough not to push it.

While Kamamoto dug into her leftovers, Yata leaned back in her seat and stared out the window. Out of habit she did a cursory search of the crowd for the white hair of Mr. Totsuka’s murderer before reminding herself that one way or another, the Colorless King was dead. The crowds passing by held no familiar faces. She saw a few figures in Scepter 4 blue, but thankfully, if Saru was around, he was staying out sight. 

“Goddamn Homra.”

Yata was on her feet before she even bothered to see who had spoken. Kamamoto’s hand caught her arm in a deathgrip before she could turn to face whatever bastard she was about to layout. She turned anyway, dragging him out of his chair.

A pair of Scepter 4 agents were seated a few tables over. She didn’t recognize either of them and immediately classified them as peons, not worthy of the vanguard of Homra’s notice outside a token bat to the head in the midst of battle. If she was going to bother learning faces, much less names, they needed to present a credible threat, like Saru and, occasionally, Awashima. 

They seemed to agree with her assessment, judging by the way their faces paled when they got a good look at her face.

“Yatagarasu,” one of them whimpered.

“What did you say about Homra?” Yata growled.

Kamamoto put himself between her and her intended targets, making a show of putting a calming hand on her shoulder. He was good about not startling her after that time he’d grabbed a hold of her from behind, attempting to hold her back from laying into a group of idiot who had been hassling her. She’d ended up using him as a club in place of her favorite bat. “Yata, Anna’s expecting us for dinner, remember?”       

 Anna was doing no such thing and nobody at the bar ate dinner before sundown during the winter months anyway. So Anna wouldn’t—Anna. Crap. If Scepter 4 put a warrant out on her she couldn’t just disappear until Kusanagi got it all sorted out with his coldhearted woman. If she ran off and left Anna, odds were that Kusanagi would help Scepter 4 find her _and_ see to it that they kept her locked up.

Yata reined in her aura, which had been thrumming just beneath her skin. She could see the glow of her eyes reflected in Kamamoto’s sunglasses. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and when she opened them again they had faded back to their usual color. “Let’s go. The arcade down the street has a first person shooter that I want to try.”

Yata pushed past him and shot one last glare at the Scepter 4 stooges as she headed for the door, letting the red fill her eyes again for an instant. She heard Kamamoto advise the idiots not to mention that they’d even seen them, saying something about Saru that she didn’t even bother listening to.

Once she was clear of the door she found a wall to lean against, noticing that she was short of breath. A few minutes later Kamamoto joined her.

“You’re pale,” he said.

“It’s winter,” Yata grumbled. They were all losing their summer tans.

“Are you sure you feel okay?”

“I’m just tired. None of us got that much sleep last night.” That’s probably why she was out breath. No sleep and then getting so ticked off. It made sense.

  Kamamoto nodded. “We should head back to the bar. I’m sure they’re wondering what’s taking us so long.”

Not seeing any reason to argue, she followed along.


	4. House Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seri pays Homra a visit.

Lieutenant Awashima had the overwhelming urge to just lie back in her chair and groan. Only the fact that she had a pair of her subordinates standing at attention in front of her desk stopped her.

“Let me get this straight. You two went on an unauthorized lunch break to a café all of two blocks from headquarters. At this café you came across two members of Homra, a group against whom all previous warrants have been cancelled in light of their king’s death, and by our king’s orders, we are not to engage unless there is an immediate threat to civilian life. With this in mind, you attempted to antagonize them into an altercation.”

The men seemed to shrink in on themselves.

“Only after you successfully enraged them did you realize that part of this twosome was Yatagarasu, who even before the Red King’s death all operatives had standing orders not to engage without either Captain Munakata or myself present.”

One of the men, she couldn’t remember his name and she was pretty sure he had only been with Scepter 4 for a few months, began sweating.

“Then, we were only saved what was sure to be a highly destructive and likely one-sided battle in the middle of a crowded restaurant by the intervention of Rikio Kamamoto who had to put himself in between you and your no doubt fiery demise, and then convinced Yatagarasu to walk away without any bloodshed?”

The pair of them flinched.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And am I also to understand that had an out of uniform agent not been present, witnessing the event, neither of you would have felt the need to report this encounter?”

“Normally we report to Mr. Fushimi, ma’am,” one of them, not the sweaty one, began.

“And you’d rather not experience firsthand how it feels to be perforated with superheated knives, I know. However, it’s generally accepted among our ranks that on matters pertaining to Yatagarasu, you report directly to me. Now, would you explain why you thought I didn’t need to know about this incident?”

Neither of them said a word.

“I’m going to assume that my source was correct when they told me that you purposely provoked this altercation under the assumption that with the Red King’s death his clansmen’s powers would be marginalized, despite the knowledge that several senior members of our ranks were clansmen to the previous Blue King and still maintain the powers he granted them, and that your failure to make a proper report was an attempt to hide your overwhelming stupidity.”

Still silence.

Seri sighed. It wasn’t a groan. It was a sigh. “Get out of my office. And stay out of Fushimi’s way for a few days. Also, Yatagarasu has a long memory. Keep that in mind.”

***

The tables at the bar were pushed against the wall and the chairs stacked on top of them, leaving the floor clear for what Yata guessed were karate lessons.

Bandou was showing Anna some basic kata’s, occasionally correcting her form. Anna had thankfully taken off her newly acquired skate shoes, instead going barefoot. Somebody had done Anna’s hair in a messy braid, and Yata noticed that Shouhei had his hat back.

“San-chan said he’d only teach her if she returned my hat,” Shouhei said, patting his head happily.

Yata didn’t want to know. She continued through the room and up the stairs to her new bedroom. Kusanagi had grudgingly given up his study when Yata made it clear she wasn’t going to use Mikoto’s bedroom ever again, and the guys had moved everything in earlier. Almost everything was still boxed up, but someone had put sheets on the bed and digging through an open box yielded a blanket. She pulled the blanket around her shoulders and curled up on the bed.

Yata meant only to rest her eyes, but the next time she opened them, her window was dark and the bar was quiet. She checked her watch and found that she’d been asleep for almost six hours.

Maybe she _was_ getting sick.

Raising a hand to her forehead, Yata noted that she was a little warm, but no more than usual for when she’d just woken up.

She had a flash of memory, someone else’s hand on her face, in an almost maternal gesture. Had someone been in here while she slept? The door had been wide open when she’d first lain down, but it was closed now.

She didn’t have time to wonder who might have come in to check on her. Her bedroom door creaked open and Anna stuck her head inside. “Misaki?”

“Yeah?” Yata asked, noting the use of her given name. Anna hadn’t used it much since before Totsuka died.

Anna took a few steps into the room. Her hair was still in that sloppy braid from earlier, though it had gotten even messier, and she was wearing a plain white shirt that Yata knew wasn’t her’s. “Can I stay in here tonight?”

“You have a nightmare?” Yata asked.

Anna shook her head, and then climbed onto the bed. “I don’t want to be alone.”

With Anna closer, Yata could smell the faint odor of Mikoto’s cigarettes. The shirt had been formfitting on Mikoto, but on Anna it hung down to her knees.

Yata hadn’t given any thought to what Kusanagi had done with Mikoto’s things. She knew that they had been packed up, because his old room had been bare of anything that had marked it as Mikoto’s. The ashtray on the bedside table, previously full of old cigarettes and a handful of pocket change, was sitting in the dish drainer in the kitchen, spotless. The ornate jewelry box, gifted by Mr. Totsuka on Mikoto’s last birthday, was gone from its spot on his dresser. The clothes that had littered the floor had been removed as well.

“Come here,” Yata said, lifting the blanket to let Anna crawl under and join her. Once Anna was curled against her side Yata wrapped an arm around her in a loose hug. They lay in silence for a while.

“Misaki,” Anna began, “are your parents still alive?”

“You don’t already know?” Yata mused.

“You don’t think about them often. At least not when I’m around,” Anna said.

“My father might still be alive,” Yata admitted. “But my mother died when I was around your age.”

Anna didn’t say anything for a while. “I miss my parents still. They’ve been gone for years, but it still hurts. Now Mikoto is gone too, and it hurts even worse.”  

There was nothing Yata could say to that. Not that she knew to say anyway. What did you say? Yata missed Mikoto too, she missed her mother, and she even missed her father though she knew she should hate him. Saying any of that out loud, though, it wouldn’t stop Anna from hurting.  So she just held Anna tighter until they both drifted off to sleep.

***

Seri Awashima ignored the looks she got when she walked through the door of Homra. Logically, she knew this was enemy territory; but she had faith in Kusanagi’s open invitation to keep his clansmen from causing problems when she dropped by out of uniform. Even Mikoto Suoh had ceded to Kusanagi’s authority within the bar.

Kusanagi wasn’t in the barroom when she arrived, but one of the quieter members of Homra peeled off from the group and disappeared through a door in the back of the room. Seri took a seat at the bar and waited.

“Ah, Seri, I take it you want your usual?” Kusanagi arrived with a smile.

“Just four scoops of red bean paste today,” she replied. From behind her she heard someone mutter, “Seriously?” She ignored them and took her drink when Kusanagi offered it.

“So, what brings you here so early in the morning?” Kusanagi asked.

Seri didn’t consider nine am to be early, but had long ago accepted that the Red clan kept different hours than she did. “I’m sure you were informed of the incident yesterday.”

There was some loud mutterings from the group assembled on the other side of the bar. Seri could see Rikio Kamamoto running a hand over his face from the corner of her eye. She would need to express her gratitude for his intervention yesterday.

“More of a non-incident if I understood the situation correctly from Kamamoto,” Kusanagi said.

“Yatagarasu didn’t give a report as well?”  

Kusanagi chuckled. “Yata’s not one for reports. And even if she were, she hasn’t come out of her room since she got back yesterday. She and Anna are catching up on their sleep.”

“For over fourteen hours?” Seri asked.

“It’s been a rough few weeks since Mikoto died,” Kusanagi shrugged. He kindly didn’t point out her king had been the one who killed him. While Kusanagi assured her that the Red Clan understood that the moment the Sword had begun to fall, Munakata’d had no choice, Seri would rather not be around while subject was fresh on their minds. Their understanding of Munakata’s position might be enough to keep them from actively seeking vengeance—as evidenced by the lack of assassination attempts by Yatagarasu— but she had no illusions about the possibility of a true peace between their clans.

“As you know, there was an incident yesterday between two members of Scepter4 and Yatagarasu—”

“And me,” Kamamoto interrupted.

Seri and Kusanagi stared him down until he looked away. Kamamoto’s loyalty was commendable but, had he been alone yesterday, there wouldn’t even have been the threat of a confrontation.

“While this incident did not escalate to violence, that’s almost never the case when Yatagarasu is involved.”

“Seri, Yata was provoked, got mad, but walked away when all was said and done. Like I said, it was a non-incident.”

“A non-incident? Izumo—” there was a slight stir behind her at the use of his given name, “this was in the middle of a crowded restaurant. If Yatagarasu had stayed true to her history, this could have been a disaster.”

“Yata is aware of the potential for casualties. She doesn’t use her powers anywhere near her max around civilians. You’ll notice that when we’re in populated areas she uses that damn bat of her’s, not her flames. I won’t deny that Yata has no problem brawling in public, but if it had come down to a real fight yesterday it would have been fists, or maybe her board, that would have been swinging, and I can guarantee you the fight would have been moved outside after the first few punches. Trust me, I’ve replaced more than a few windows she’s gone through.”

“Izumo—”

Kusanagi held up a hand. “Yata’s gonna be starting work in a few days. She’ll be busy and on her best behavior because she needs to keep this job. If you can keep your men from deliberately antagonizing her we shouldn’t have any problems.”

Seri set her empty glass down on the bar. “Considering what happened last night, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Last night?”

Seri contemplated asking Kusanagi for another drink. “The agents from yesterday are on leave as of this morning. Unofficially they’ve been moved to the southern offices so that Fushimi has time to cool off.”

“Still doesn’t like anyone else going near Yata, huh?” Kusanagi winced, eyes flickering toward the bulletin board on the wall nearby. She’d noticed the board on previous visits to the bar, and knew it had been set up and maintained by Tatara Totsuka. It was covered with pictures of various members of Homra. There were no pictures of Fushimi, which made sense due to the nature of his defection.

Seri wondered what about Kusanagi’s reaction. In the past he’d seemed amused by Fushimi’s obsession with Yatagarasu, as long as Fushimi kept his distance. Why the change?

“And you’re complaining that I can’t keep Yata in line,” Kusanagi muttered.

“You can have him back if you want,” Seri replied dryly.

“No thank you. It’s been almost calm around here since he left. Nobody’s threatened tear out my eyes in months.”

“Eyes?” Seri asked.

“Let’s just say we’ve all seen more of Yata than we ever wanted too, and Fushimi has never forgiven us.”

“Seriously, if she incorporated that into a strip show, she wouldn’t need that delivery job.” Seri was pretty sure that Yo Chitose was the one who spoke. Her suspicion was confirmed when Kamamoto elbowed him in the stomach, growling, “She’s our sister!”      

“Your sister, maybe,” Chitose muttered back.

“Who’s sister?”

Seri stiffened, though she tried not to let it show. She knew coming here today that there was a chance that she would run into Yatagarasu but she’d relaxed when Kusanagi told her Yatagarasu was resting. Now faced with the woman herself, face pale and hair sleep tussled, Seri felt a chill run down her spine.

Yatagarasu’s hazel— almost amber— eyes were alert and focused, much like the Red King’s had been when he walked through countless layers of security and her own elite team with ease. She’d almost met her end twice in recent months, at the hands of Suoh and Yatagarasu respectively. She may trust Kusanagi’s assurance of her safety in his bar, but that didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down.

“I can get you an audition at the club by tonight. I swear they’ll pay you double what that delivery place is offering.”

Yatagarasu’s gaze flickered to Chitose. “Why would I want to be a stripper? Much less at a place you hang out at?”

“I’d be more concerned with his obsession with seeing Yata strip,”Masaomi Dewa grumbled, casting a dark look at his fellow clansman.

“Like none of you have ever thought about it,” Chitose said, defensively. “At least Mikoto—”  

Glass shattered and fell to the floor in so many tiny pieces. Chitose seemed to have Homra’s infamous durability—which was probably a necessity when handling the Red King’s flames—as he didn’t seem to have any cuts or scratches despite having one of Kusanagi’s fine wine glasses shatter against his face.

Seri tried to process what she’d just seen. Yatagarasu breaking things and assaulting her fellow clan members was to be expected, as it was fairly common. But Izumo was not Yatagarasu. She couldn’t deny however, that is was the glass Izumo had just been cleaning that was now in pieces on the floor, and that it was Izumo’s arm that was still outstretched. She’d never seen Izumo angry. Irritated, yes, but never with the rage that his fellow clansmen seemed achieve effortlessly. Not like he was now.

In an instant that anger was gone, replaced with weariness. He brought his hand up to push aside his glasses and rub his eyes. Pulling his hand away he stared at it in surprise.

  “Sorry Seri, but we’re all a little on edge still. It’s been a rough few weeks.” Izumo’s smile was back, but it was clearly strained and insincere.

“The hell?” Chitose muttered as Dewa pulled him back into his chair and shoved a bowl of food at him.

Yatagarasu’s eyes were flickering between Izumo and Chitose. Seri wondered if the other woman was as confused as she was.

“I promised to bring Anna up some food. Any breakfast left?” Yatagarasu turned to Izumo.

“I set aside some plates for you two. They’re in the kitchen by the stove,” Izumo said.      

Yatagarasu nodded and disappeared into the backroom that Seri assumed was the kitchen. Izumo watched her go with a look on his face that Seri couldn’t decipher. She wasn’t sure she liked that.

She remembered something Izumo said earlier, and the meaning finally sunk in. “Yatagarasu is living here?”

Izumo grimaced. “Define ‘living here’?”  

Seri’s eyes narrowed. “You said she’d been in her room since yesterday. Her room upstairs, above your bar?”

The men at the table behind her scrambled to their feet. She heard mumbles about ‘lover’s quarrel’ as the door opened and hurried footsteps as they all fled.

Izumo flicked to the corner behind her. “Eric?” he asked.

Seri saw the quiet man who’d gone off to fetch Izumo when she arrived sitting on the couch staring morosely at the door.

“Waiting for Kousuke.”

Izumo grimaced.

“Well?” Seri asked.

Izumo took a breath. “Mikoto left Yata his rooms. And as it turns out, Yata’s been living next to a brothel, so she’s going to stay here until we can work things out and get her back on her feet.”

Seri raised her eyebrow.

“You know how we are, Seri. We aren’t just colleagues, we’re family. We take care of each other. Yata needs help, so I’m going to help her.

“Mikoto’s gone. I don’t know what’s going to happen to Homra now. We held together to see Mikoto put to rest. I have no idea what everyone is going to do now that that’s done. I’m not going to stop anyone who wants to leave.” On the couch Eric flinched. “But I’m going to look after Mikoto’s daughter, and if she needs it, I take care of Yata as well.”

            At that moment, Yatagarasu emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of food. There was a blush on her cheeks but her head was held high. Seri watched in fascination as Yatagarasu nodded to Kusanagi before heading up the stairs.

            “I think she heard you,” Eric said. 

            “I noticed that,” Izumo replied.

            She wouldn’t make any headway with Izumo today, Seri decided, not on the subjected of Yatagarasu. “I believe I’ve said everything I came to say,” she said, rising from her chair and slinging her purse over her shoulder.

            Izumo nodded. “Like I said, Yata’s going to be on her best behavior from here on out. She knows what we need from her. She’s never let us down before.”

            Surprisingly, that did reassure her a little. If she’d learned one thing from Fushimi’s gripes about Homra, it was that Yatagarasu held her loyalty to her clan above all else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this isn’t really an angst piece, the grief they’re all going through is only going to be glossed over. There will be hints but it’s not the focus.


	5. Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yata's first day at her new job isn't too bad. On a scale of "Puppies" to "A Falling Sword of Damocles" it ranks a firm "This is why we had to learn how to dodge bullets". Par for the course really.

It had been over a week since he’d had that talk with a certain pair of idiots about Misaki and just why nobody in Scepter 4—or anywhere else for that matter— was allowed to bait her but him. It had been over a week and he was still filling out paperwork.

Fushimi wondered if complaining to Munakata would get him out of the rest of it, but he doubted that would help. His king seemed more amused by his relationship with Misaki than anything else, but he tended not to intervene when Awashima lost her temper and decided to confine him to the office.

Fushimi desperately need to get out of the office.  He hadn’t seen Misaki since the Askinaka incident a month ago. That was far too long. Even Awashima had seen her just last week. How was that fair?

He scribbled his signature on one last form before pushing away from his desk. Ignoring the stack that seemed to grow every time he turned around, he grabbed his uniform jacket.

“I’m going to lunch,” he told Akiyama as he passed his underling’s desk.

“Mr. Fushimi? Lieutenant Awashima said you weren’t supposed to leave the office,” Akiyama protested.

Fushimi ignored him. It’s not like they could chain him to his desk—Awashima had tried, oh how she’d tried— and the likelihood of him running into Misaki was non-existent so what was the point of making him stay in?

There was a quiet little restaurant a few blocks away that Akiyama had recommended to him awhile back. It was nice to be able hear himself think on occasion. Getting a table to himself at lunchtime wasn’t as much of a chore as it would be somewhere else. Fifteen minutes after exiting Scepter 4, Fushimi was seated at his favorite table waiting on his usual meal.

His thoughts, as usual, turned to Misaki. As he’d told quite a few people over the years, Misaki was his. Most people had respected that claim.

Until Homra.

No one there had acknowledged his rights to Misaki’s undivided attention. Fushimi had been almost okay with the attention Misaki gave to Anna. The little girl had lost her parents not long before she came to be in Suoh’s care. It was expected Misaki would empathize with Anna’s circumstances.

He’d met Misaki in the final days of her mother’s illness. Misaki had been sick herself at the time, and was recovering from surgery when they met in the hospital. They’d been in adjacent rooms, though Fushimi would have been able to hear her if she was on the other end of the hall. Misaki was loud when she was healthy, but laid up in bed she was deafening. He’d hobbled over to her room on a broken leg—trees were evil—to tell her to shut up.  Somehow this had led to them becoming friends, though he had no idea how.

They’d spent the next few years together, just the two of them surrounded by a sea of faces that didn’t warrant recognition.

Then came Suoh and suddenly Misaki’s world opened up, and Fushimi’s had shrunk. Those years they spent together apparently meant nothing to her.

But now Suoh was dead. And Misaki was still out of his reach.

He couldn’t go to her. Misaki might need him, maybe even enough to welcome him back with open arms, but Suoh had had the fucking nerve to die. He couldn’t compete with Suoh when he was there in all his languid glory, how could he compete with the bastard now? Suoh would fill Misaki’s heart and mind until there was no room for him anymore.

Fushimi caught that line of thought before it could go any further. That wasn’t right. There hadn’t been room in Misaki’s heart for him in a long time.

***

Whoosh!

Yata ducked the punch thrown at her head before sidestepping the idiot who was charging her from behind. She spun around, bringing her elbow up and smashing it into the third man’s nose with a beautiful crunch. The first man grabbed her upper arm to try and hold her in place. She responded by head-butting him, then pulling him with her when she went into a back roll, planting her feet firmly against his stomach and sent him hurtling into a brick wall. The final man pulled out a gun and leveled it at her face.  

Once upon a time this would have been threatening. When she was five maybe.

Another sidestep out of the way in case he was stupid enough to pull the trigger, a quick leap forward and the bastard’s arm is clutched in her hands. She brought it down over her knee, pulling the man down with it. She hears him begin to scream even before she feels his bone crack.

Yata let him drop and stepped back to survey the scene. All three men were down, and unlikely to target her when she was doing her deliveries in the future.

She guessed it might be partially her fault. When she began work for _Kamiya Deliveries_ she’d flat out refused to take any jobs that would put her within five blocks of Scepter 4 headquarters. After all, the general consensus among Homra was to steer clear of the Blue clan as much as possible. Unfortunately _Kamiya Deliveries_ had a substantial client base in that area, which meant that she essentially had to agree to take the jobs nobody else wanted, including the ones that brought her down to the Jihan district of the city, which wasn’t under Red Clan protection and barely rated the notice of the Blue Clan. Her co-workers told her that within the last year, three people from _Kamiya Deliveries_ alone had been robbed, and supposedly someone from another delivery company had been killed in the area. In all honesty, she shouldn’t have been surprised to be grabbed right off her bike and dragged back into an alley while the assholes tried to make off with her bag and bike.

She pulled her work phone out of her pocket. Her boss would need to know she’d been attacked. He liked to know those kinds of things. With any luck he wouldn’t get the police involved. Whether Scepter 4 was called or not, if her name showed up in any police reports, even if all she’d done was defend herself, she would be getting another visit the heartless woman. Yata couldn’t afford that with the custody hearings coming up. Homra couldn’t lose Anna just because Yata couldn’t stay out of trouble for a few weeks.

Her manager was absolutely thrilled that she hadn’t lost any of her cargo, less thrilled that she didn’t want to talk to the police— but all her references came from Homra members so he knew when he hired her that she would have an aversion to law enforcement— and agreed to leave her name out of any reports he made to the police.

The man who answered the door when she reached the delivery destination seemed surprised to see her and she was beginning to suspect that the problems with this area had been downplayed. She ended up walking away with a nice tip that had a phone number scribbled on one of the bills in very fresh ink—what the hell? Did they not have women in this part of Shizume? God, that was such a Chitose move— so she’d call today a win.

Yata made a few more deliveries before heading back to the main office to drop off her work clothes and clock out for the day. Her boss was honestly surprised when she said she’d see him on her next scheduled work day. She had a feeling she was going to be running all the deliveries in the Jihan area from now on.

That was the first day of her new job.

Her first paycheck was still four weeks away, but the customers tipped well and she would be able to buy groceries for the bar. She and Kusanagi had sat down and looked at finances, determined there was no way she was going to be able to support Anna by herself, and decided to split the costs. Yata would buy groceries and do some free labor around the bar and Kusanagi wouldn’t bitch about having to buy Anna new clothes to satisfy her strange obsession with imitating Yata.

The bar was quiet when she got there. The only people in the barroom were Eric and Anna. The two were sitting silently in Eric’s usual corner. A book was spread open on the table in front of them. It appeared to be about tanto fighting.

 Yata made a mental note to talk to Kusanagi about Anna’s sudden interest in the martial arts.  

She knocked on the door to his upstairs office before just walking in. “I’m back.”

“Do you still have a job?” Kusanagi asked, not bothering to look up from the order forms he was filling out.

“Yup. The boss was impressed that I didn’t die, so I think he wants to keep me around.”

The pen in Kusanagi’s hand snapped in two and ink spilled on his forms. “What?!”

Yata shrugged. “Some guys tried to rob me. I think that happens a lot on that route… You have ink on your face.” She’d never seen someone literally headdesk before, but it figured that it would be Kusanagi to finally do it.

Peeling an ink stained sheet of paper from his face, Kusanagi sighed. “I’ll try and find some work for you around here.”

Yata blinked. “…Why?”   

“Yata, two months ago, I was sitting behind my bar watching Tatara play his guitar for Mikoto. Since then, I’ve had to arrange both their funerals. I’m not planning yours too.”

“I thought the point of me getting a job was to bring in extra money. You said you couldn’t afford to pay me because business was slow.”

“I can afford to support you and Anna both if you’re living here.”

Yata’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

“What?”

“No. I’ve moved in here because you insisted. I got a job because you told me I had to. I am not quitting it after just one day just because you say so.”     

The chair screeched as Kusanagi stood. “Didn’t you hear me? You were attacked! Tatara was killed on a goddamn roof a few blocks from here. What if one of those guys had a gun?!” Kusanagi’s eyes narrowed, intently reading her expression. “Oh god, they did, didn’t they?”

Yata shifted uncomfortably. “He didn’t get a shot off.”

“That doesn’t make it better!”

“Why not? I’ve actually been shot at before. Remember those punks last month? Or that drug distributer back in October? Hell, last year I actually got hit! You told me to walk it off!”

“We had a king then! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed? Without the Red King’s sanctum our powers aren’t anywhere near what they use to be.”

Actually, she hadn’t noticed. Her red was burning just as hot as it always had.

“Yata, we need you. We need you here, and we need you alive because we can’t survive another loss. Not now.”

“Can we afford for me not to have a job right now?” Yata asked.

“Better than we can afford for you to die.”

“And if I stopped doing deliveries to Jihan? Would you have a problem with me keeping this job?” Yata had an idea. Not one she was happy about, but one that would probably be more tolerable to Kusanagi.

Kusanagi blinked. “Jihan? Yata, what? Never mind. What are you thinking?”

“If I run deliveries in the Blues territory, I could avoid Jihan.”

“And if you run into Fushimi? I have explained about why you need to avoid getting arrested right?”

“In detail.”

“Is it really one or the other? Jihan or Scepter 4?”

Yata nodded. “Not much point in hiring someone who won’t run deliveries to ninety percent of the clientele.”

Kusanagi sighed. “Then I’d prefer you risk a run in with Fushimi. He won’t try to kill you at least.”

She still had a scar on her shoulder from when she ran into Fushimi at Askinaka while looking for the Colorless King. It hadn’t been a killing blow, and Saru never misses, not with his knives. Whatever their differences, Saru didn’t want her dead.

“I’ll talk to my boss,” Yata thought for a minute, “the day after tomorrow. That’s when I work next.”

Kusanagi nods. “Good.”

Yata turned to go.

“Oh, Anna wants to go out tomorrow. Could you take her?” Kusanagi asked before she gets to the door. “She mentioned a bookstore.”

Yata considered it for a minute, and then nodded. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* I wasn’t sure where I was going with this chapter, and I think it shows. Also, at least according to Fushimi in Missing Kings, clansmen without an active king are considerably weakened. To the point that Fushimi turned down a fight with Yata because he felt it wouldn’t be an even match.


	6. Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise meeting with someone Yata really didn't want to see.

            When Yata made her way downstairs to raid the kitchen that night—for some reason she just couldn’t live without a glass of cranberry juice—she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been to find Eric sitting in the barroom in the dark. Though if she’d actually been expecting him she would have worn more than one of her black undershirts and a pair of boyshorts.

            Eric was hunched over the bar, glaring at his reflection in its polished surface.

            It crossed Yata’s mind to wonder what Eric was doing here so late, but the bar was supposed to be a refuge, whether Kusanagi liked it or not, and Eric had just as much right to hang out at the bar during the off hours as she did, no matter the reason.

            “There’s a pillow and some sheets in the hall closet,” Yata said.

            Eric turned his glare on her. Yata returned the glare. If he started throwing knives at her, she would throw them right back. She might not be on Saru’s level, but she could hit a guy at ten paces. Probably.

Then Eric blushed, and returned to glaring at the bar.

Yata remembered that she wasn’t wearing a bra and it was cold enough in the bar that she had goose bumps.

            Whatever, she wanted that cranberry juice. While she was digging around in the fridge, she grabbed a can of the soda that she’d seen Eric drinking before. Eric still had problems with going and getting his own food, and if Fujishima or Kamamoto didn’t offer him anything while he was at the bar, he’d go without.

            She dropped the soda on the bar in front of him, getting another glare, before she headed back upstairs with the jug of cranberry juice.

***

            They had an hour before the bookstore was due to open. Yata was already up and dressed, not wanting a repeat of the night before. Kusanagi had seen enough of her walking around in her underwear, and though he hadn’t complained she was pretty sure he’d like her to wear a robe when she wasn’t fully dressed.  

            She’d noticed when she was getting dressed that her clothes weren’t fitting quite right. Well, her white over shirts still fit fine, but they were a men’s XL. The rest of her clothes felt too small around her hips and chest. So Yata ended up digging through some of the boxes she hadn’t got around to unpacking, looking for something larger.

            Most of her old clothes had the same problem, being either the same size, or a size or two smaller than the clothes she was wearing. It was disconcerting that even her sports bras felt too tight, she’d worn the same cup size since middle school.

Digging through another box, she found some of her spare beanies. Damn, why did she have so many? In frustration she began toss them all over her shoulder, hoping to get to the bottom of the box faster.

            One of them caught her eye as it sailed into her bedside lamp.

            It was a hand knitted beanie, blue with a crown of flames around the bottom. It was the only successful project from Tatara’s three-week knitting obsession. He’d presented it to her on her eighteenth birthday, and she’d worn it for a few days to please him before the teasing from her fellow clansmen had gotten too bad and she’d stuffed it in the back of her sock drawer and forgotten about it.

            If Tatara had minded, he didn’t show it. Still, Yata wished that she’d just worn the hat for a little longer. The teasing hadn’t been that bad. They’d just been joking that the hat made her and Shouhei look like a matching set.

            Shouhei… Anna was still eyeing his hat, even if she promised to stop stealing it in exchange for those karate lessons. And she had been taking most of her fashion choices from Yata.

            Well, Yata knew she wasn’t going to wear it again. Might as well see if Anna wanted it.

***

            “Misaki, this one.”

            A book was thrust in Yata’s face, with a blue cloth hardcover and silver painted highlights. “ _Grimm’s Fairy Tales_?”

Anna nodded. “Can you read it to me?”

Yata looked down at her coffee and sighed. In the entire store, Anna had to pick up the one book that had given her nightmares as a child. Maybe if she avoided the story about the dismembered brides it wouldn’t be too bad.

“Which story did you want to hear?” Yata asked.

Anna took the book and opened it. She flipped through the pages until she found the one she wanted. “This one,” she said, handing the book back.

Yata glanced over it. It was short enough, and it wasn’t Bluebeard. “There once lived a man and his wife who long wished for a child…” Anna laid her head on Yata’s shoulder as she continued to read.

“… And when her tears touched his eyes they became clear again, and he could see with them as well as ever. Then he took her to his kingdom, where he was received with great joy, and there they lived long and happily.”

            Anna was curled against Yata’s side, smiling, so Yata guessed she’d enjoyed the story.

            There was a sticker on the book declaring it was from the bargain bin. It actually cost less than the coffee she’d bought. It wasn’t going to hurt their finances, and if it made Anna smile it was worth the investment.

            There wasn’t too much of a line at the register, only three people in line ahead of them. They took their place at the end, Anna clinging to Yata with one hand, and clutching the book to her chest with the other, smiling happily.

            Yata felt a shiver of unease just before she recognized the man standing in front of them. She’d never seen him out of his uniform, but his presence was unmistakable. Yata fought the urge to make a hasty retreat because, if she ran, that would surely draw his attention.

            She did not want Reisi Munakata to notice just who was standing behind him.

            Anna was staring up at her curiously, no doubt sensing the quick shift in her mood. Luckily her hands were full, so she couldn’t use her beads right now to see just what was going on in Yata’s head.   

            This man had killed Mikoto.

            No, that wasn’t right. If Mikoto hadn’t wanted to die, he would still be here. The Blue King was just the weapon he’d used to end it. That knowledge–and the anger it brought with it—was of no help to Yata and the state of absolute terror the Blue King’s presence evoked in her.

            Just as Yata was beginning to think that they would get through the line without attracting the Blue King’s attention, the man in question turned. Maybe he sensed Yata’s inner turmoil, maybe she made a noise, but he turned and saw them.

            For a moment, he stared blankly. Anna could pass for a little boy, especially with her long hair hidden under her new flame crowned beanie. Yata’s hair, for once uncovered, was hanging loosely around her shoulders. Together, they looked nothing like Homra’s princess and the Red King’s vanguard.  

            Recognition flickered in his eyes and he took a step back, as though in fear. That was a stupid idea. What could the pair of them do to a King of the Dresden Slate?

            The sudden movement jostled the Blue King’s purchases, and the item on top of the pile in his arms fell to the floor. On reflex, Yata bent down to pick it up. It was a puzzle, and she recognized picture on the box from a videogame Saru had played for a month in middle school before getting bored with it.

            Her heart froze in her chest. She doubted the Blue King was a fan of MMOs, they were time consuming and he wouldn’t have that kind of free time. She wondered if the Blue King saw the same thing she did looking at that picturew. Did the beautifully embossed gold lion mean the same thing to him as it did to her? 

            The Blue King reached out and took the puzzle from her frozen fingers. She noted the wariness on his face distantly. There was something wrong with her eyes. They were going blurry around the edges. She blinked to clear them, and felt the warmth trickling down her cheeks.

            No. Not here. Not in front of this man.

            Yata turned and ran, dragging Anna behind her.

            ***

            When she finally calmed down, Yata found herself curled up on the bathroom floor with Anna clutched to her chest.

            Anna was rubbing her back, murmuring soothing words. It was almost enough to make Yata break down again. She was supposed to be taking care of Anna, not the other way around. God, what was she doing?

            Yata took a deep breath and shifted Anna off of her lap. She rubbed her face to wipe away the remaining tears.

            “Misaki?” Anna asked.

            “I’m good now,” Yata said. First thing she needed to do was get off this floor. The second thing, she decided after getting a look at herself in the mirror, was to wash her face. Her face was a splash of red splotches, and her eyes looked almost gold in contrast to the bloodshot red surrounding her irises.

            Yata wet a paper towel and began pressing it to her face, drawing out some of the heat. There was nothing she could do for her eyes, but her bangs could hide them if needed. She brushed her hair forward, allowing it to obscure some of her face. Her breathing had evened out, there were no more telltale stuttering breaths.

Yata nodded to her image in the mirror and turned to Anna. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Anna replied, taking Yata’s hand. “Are you okay too?”

Yata gave a strained grin. “I’ll be fine.”

Re-entering the main part of the store, Yata did a quick visual scan of the area. The Blue King was nowhere to be seen. Yata didn’t know what she’d been expecting, the Blue King to wait around to ambush them? He had better things to do, she was sure.

“Where’s your book?”

Anna blinked up at her. “I dropped it.”

Yata tried to remember the path she took in her mad dash to the restroom, in the hopes that she could retrace it to find the book. After a minute she gave up and decided to go dig through the bargain bin to find another copy.

“Ma’am?”

Yata stopped digging through the bin. The store clerk looked nervous, standing behind her clutching a shopping bag in his hands.

“The gentleman that just left said these were for you,” the man held out the bag.

            Yata took it automatically, and then glanced inside. It was the copy of _Grimm’s Fairy Tales_ , along with a copy of _Alice’s Adventure’s in Wonderland_ for some reason.  There was a sales receipt tucked inside the front cover of _Grimm’s_.

            She was tempted to chase the Blue King down and throw the books at his head, but the look on Anna’s face stopped her. It wasn’t a happy look, but there was something there that Yata hadn’t seen since before Tatara died.

            Yata decided to let it slide. This time anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Mikoto were reading one of the Lewis Carroll books at a bookstore in the Memory of Red manga when they ran into Munakata buying about twenty or so 1000 piece puzzles. So yeah.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Munakata is introspective and Yata is starting to think she needs a new job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll be honest, I really am not happy with this chapter, but if I don't get it posted I'll probably just let the story stay stall like it has been. Unbeta'ed so feel free to point out overt mistakes in the comments.

_“Take care of my girls.”_

            The man had been bleeding out; not even able to support his own weight anymore, just hanging limp in Munakata’s arms. The snow at their feet was stained a deep red by the ever-growing pool of Suoh’s blood.

            _“Take care of them.”_

            Mikoto Suoh had no right to ask anything of him. A final request muttered with his last breath or not, he had no obligation to Suoh.

Munakata would honor it anyway.

            The girls in question were clearly, and in the latter part unfortunately, Anna Kushina and Misaki Yata. Anna, a powerful strain, was already under Scepter 4’s watch. Mikoto knew that, and accepted it as additional protection for the child he cared for as a daughter.

            Munakata could not do the same for Misaki Yata. The woman was volatile, and any guard he placed on her would surely be discovered and summarily immolated. He valued his clansmen more than that.

            Under normal circumstances, Munakata would have Fushimi assess the situation and suggest an appropriate course of action. However, he doubted Suoh would have considered giving Fushimi carte blanche to spy on Misaki Yata to be in the spirit of looking out for her.

            There was a perrinial stack of reports on his desk, detailing the current situation with the Red Clan in the month since Suoh’s death. They were calmer now, with Tatara Totsuka avenged, and listless with Suoh dead. There was a minor incident about two weeks ago involving Misaki Yata and his own men, that thankfully didn’t end in bloodshed.

… Well, no blood spilt by Misaki Yata. They’d had to replace the carpeting after Fushimi’s talk with his subordinates.

            Which brought up another problem. Why did Suoh specify Misaki Yata along with Anna Kushina? Suoh had never shown himself to be anymore protective of Misaki Yata than the rest of his clansmen. Less protective really, she was his vanguard, leading his clansman into what ever battle they deemed necessary. He couldn’t afford to show her favoritism and expect his men to follow her orders in battle. That hadn’t changed before his death. Misaki Yata had been leading the offensive at Askinaka, and on that first night she’d been guarding a large section of the campus by herself. He’d felt her eyes boring into him as he’d passed through on his way to meet with Suoh, seen her glaring down at him from the roof of one of the school buildings.

            But then again…hadn’t Suoh been protective of Misaki Yata? Not in battle no, but other times. There had been incidents, now that Munakata thought about it. He’d had a meeting with an angry Suoh not long after Fushimi joined the Blue Clan. He’d expected their conversation to be about Munakata purposely recruiting one of Suoh’s clansmen away from him. But instead Suoh demanded that he keep Fushimi in line and away from Misaki Yata. A month later, two of his men needed an extended stay in Scepter 4’s burn unit, Suoh was occupying one of the cells under headquarters, and for the first time Fushimi’s mask of apathy had shattered.

            What had Suoh’s vanguard meant to him? A week ago, Awashima had reported a strange exchange at the Homra Bar, between Izumo Kusanagi and another red clansmen. The clansman— Yo Chitose, described by Fushimi as a lecherous ass and by less bias sources as something of a playboy— had implied some sort of relationship between Suoh and Misaki Yata. This in itself didn’t mean anything. His own clansmen seemed to think he was engaged in a romantic relationship with either Awashima or Fushimi, depending on the day. But Izumo Kusanagi’s reaction raised suspicion.

Kusanagi was Suoh’s childhood friend and the only person after Tatara Totsuka died who might have had any idea what was going on in Suoh’s head. If there were a relationship, then he would know about it. Would he feel the need to hide this information from the Blue clan? Why?

The obvious answer was that they wouldn’t want the information getting back to Fushimi. If such a relationship existed and Fushimi became aware of it, his reaction would be unpredictable. He knew about Fushimi’s jealousy of the Red King, he’d tried to play off it to recruit him. Fushimi had seen through the attempt, but had accepted his offer anyway.

Was there any other reason to hide the relationship? Enemies of the Red King had targeted the people he cared for before. There were attempts on Tatara Totsuka’s life long before the Colorless King ended it.

With the Red King dead, his clansmen would be weakened. Not all the lingering resentment would be quenched simply because Suoh was dead. A lover left behind could bear the brunt of that resentment. Add that onto the enemies Misaki Yata had made on her own…

Munakata decided he would need to confer with Awashima. She could bring a fresh perspective on the situation, and Fushimi couldn’t intimidate her into giving him information. Between the two of them, they should be able to determine the best course of action.

 

***  

            When she agreed to start making deliveries to the Blues’ part of town, Yata had been expecting her first problem to be caused by someone from Scepter 4. If she were really unlucky, maybe she’d run into Saru, or the Blue King, or, if the world hated her, both at the same time.

            Now, standing in the doorway of some anonymous hotel room staring the equally gob smacked Black Dog in the face, Yata decided that she may have been too optimistic.

            Yatogami made no move to attack, but the tiny cat clinging to his shoulder was hissing and taking swipes with its claws at the air in-between them. If Kusanagi had been correct, the cat was actually the Silver King’s first clansman, a powerful strain.

… Who had witnessed Yata’s repeated attempts on her king’s life… fuck.

Yata sighed. “Package for…” she looked at her list, “Nekozawa.”

In an instant a grasping teenage girl replaced the yowling cat.

“MINE!”

Yata was somewhat sketchy on what happened next, but somehow she found herself sprawled on her back with the girl— who was, as Yata was now painfully aware, naked—straddling her waist and clutching the package to her bare chest.

“Neko,” Yatogami choked out, utterly horrified judging by his expression.

Yata, determinedly ignoring the heaving breasts in her face, held up her clipboard. “Sign please.”

***

“My apologies for Neko’s behavior. She gets excited,” Yatogami said, handing her a cup of tea.

Yata did her best not to grimace. She really didn’t like tea, but if neither of the Silver Clansmen were trying to kill her she owed it to them to be polite. It was the least she could do after targeting their king.

The Silver clansmen had a couple chairs set up against the far wall of their room, meaning she didn’t have sit on one of the beds.

Yatogami seemed to have an entire kitchen tucked away in his briefcase, as every time Yata turned away he seemed to magically produce some new utensil or cooking ingredient. He was using a hotplate he had set up in the corner to cook something that smelled delicious.

“It’s fine,” Yata replied.

“You are no longer our enemy, and she should remember her manners,” Yatogami insisted.

Neko was ignoring them, busy fiddling with her new cell phone. “Meow! Kurosuke, what’s Kukuri’s number?”

Yatogami sighed. “We have company, Neko. Be sociable.”

A blast of music came from the phone, causing Neko to cackle dementedly. Yatogami pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a quiet ‘nevermind’.

When the food was ready, Yatogami offered her a bowl. She found that it contained stir-fried vegetables and tofu. Yata hid her disappointment. She didn’t like _chanpuru._ To be polite she took a bite. Her eyes widened as the delicious flavor exploded across her tongue. Hesitantly, she nibbled at another piece. The taste remained amazing. Yata threw caution to the wind and began devouring her share with gusto.

“Seconds!” Neko cried holding out her bowl.

“Not until our guest is finished,” Yatogami replied.

Yata paused in her eating when she felt something brush her against her side. Looking down, she found the strain cat rubbing against her. Neko stared up at her with begging eyes. Yata hesitated a moment, before the memory of chasing Neko and her king through the streets with murderous intent pushes to the forefront of her thoughts. Yata plucked a bit of tofu from her bowl and offered it to Neko. The cat strain happily dug in and devoured it. Apparently satisfied with the extra bit of food, the Neko curled up in Yata’s lap and began to purr contentedly. Yata didn’t need to look to know that Yatogami’s face had gone red again, either from embarrassment or anger.

“So,” Yata began, desperately trying to think of a safe topic to break the awkward silence with.

“Indeed,” Yatogami replied.

Yata looked around the room, noting that it looked lived in, as if the Silvers had been staying here for a while. “You guys are living here?”

Yatogami nodded. “The Gold king is having our headquarters at the Askinaka Island School repaired. In the mean time he’s providing us with reasonable accommodations.”

“Ah,” Yata murmured in reply. She thought that Kusanagi had mentioned that the Gold and Silver Kings had been close friends during the Second World War.

Yata felt something pressing against her stomach. Looking down she found Neko patting her belly with one tiny paw, a bemused expression on her feline face.

Yatogami’s face, which had finally returned to it’s normal hue, reddened again. He turned away. “I’ll make you some tea.”

While he was busy with the kettle, Yata rubbed her belly where Neko had been patting. It wasn’t visible, not through her shirt, but she could feel a firm bump just below her belly button.

Yata took a fortifying breath and finally allowed the dots to connect in her mind. She would need to make a stop on the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Munakata is way-overthinking the whole Mikoto/Yata thing. Problem is, other people are too. I kind of wish I had set the Mikoto/Yata thing up as a tragic romance, but at the time I started this fic I was pretty certain that Mikoto/Tatara was canon (still am actually) and wasn’t in the right headspace to write romantic Mikoto/Yata.


	8. Well, Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yata discovers something and makes plans accordingly. Meanwhile, Munakata and Awashima make plans of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I'm a fulltime employee juggling work with my upper-level classes.

     Two lines.

     Yata blinked.

     Still two lines.

     Yata threw the test against the wall. Then she hurried and picked it up again. Stared at the two lines for a solid minute before groaning.

     Two fucking lines.

     What happened to ‘almost certainly infertile’ and ‘will require medical intervention to conceive’? Yata suppressed the urge to track down that doctor and punch him in the face.

     Then again, she should have taken that with a grain of salt. Her mother had the same problem, and yet here Yata was. But her mother hadn’t had a cyst the size of a golf ball removed from her left ovary when she was twelve, so Yata felt justified in thinking her case was a little more severe.

     Yata froze. Fuck, a positive pregnancy test didn't necessarily mean she was pregnant. Actually, that would be one of the better outcomes. She needed to see a doctor—no that would take too long, and the fucking Blues would find out, and the custody hearing was next week damn it.

     Anna. Anna could tell her for sure. Yata reached for the door and threw it open—

***

     A few hours later, a much calmer Yata found her way to Anna’s room. A deep fortifying breath and a short knock brought Anna to the door.

     "Is something wrong, Misaki?" Anna asked after they sat down on the bed.

     Yata bit her lower lip, trying to think of the best way to say what she needed to ask. “Anna, I need you to do something. With your power.”

     Anna blinked. “Okay.”

     “Right,” Yata said. “Can you tell if.... if there’s another mind in here.” Yata gestured toward her belly.

     Anna stared, not reaching for one of her gems. “You mean the baby?”   

     It was Yata’s turn to stare. “You knew?!”

     Anna nodded. “I’ve been able to see her mind since Mikoto’s wake.”

     “…And you didn’t think to mention it before?”

     “You were so sad after Mikoto died. Then you were worried when you found out Mikoto wanted me to stay with you. I didn't want you to worry any more than you already were."

     Yata pinched the bridge of her nose, the same way she saw Kusanagi do so often. “Anna, this wasn’t information that would keep.”

     “I’m sorry.”  

     She didn’t like things being kept from her. It about drove her crazy during the search for Tatara’s killer when Kusanagi, Mikoto, and Anna all seemed to know more than they were telling the rest of the clan. Yata’d gone off on Kusanagi after Mikoto was arrested and they found out that had been the plan from the start. She might have given Mikoto a piece of her mind after he broke out if there had been time. But she wouldn’t hold it against Anna. She was a little girl who had lost too many people she loved in too short of time. It was the girl’s prerogative to worry at this point.

     “Just don’t keep something like this to yourself again.”

     “Ok, Misaki.”

     Letting her anger go, Yata’s mind spun off in a new direction. She needed a plan of action. She couldn’t see a doctor until after the custody hearing, but that shouldn’t be a problem. She was nearly to the end of the first trimester if she was doing her math right and somebody had told her that that was when you were most likely to lose the baby.

     It could work. If everybody kept their mouths shut, she could get through the custody hearing without this screwing it up. She would have to tell Kusanagi afterward, which she was not looking forward to, but this could work…Oh, fuck. Saru was going to find out eventually. This was going to suck.

 

***

     “Are you certain, Captain?” Awashima asked.

     Munakata nodded. “With the facts we have, it seems to be the most likely conclusion.”

     Silence.

     “Shit,” Awashima muttered.

     Munakata ignored the expletive, allowing that the situation called for it.

     “What are we going to do about this?” Awashima asked.

     “I was hoping that between the two of us we could come up with a workable plan.”

     “For handling the inevitable fallout when Fushimi finds out?”

     Munakata remained silent and Awashima’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What else?” she demanded.

     “Suoh asked me to look after his girls. Plural. And as there were only two women in his life at the time of his death, it stands to reason that those are the girls he was talking about.”

     “…Suoh asked you to look after Yatagarasu? And you agreed!”

     “Well, it would only be polite as he was dying at the time,” Munakata replied, a hint of steel in his voice.

     “Of course, Suoh’s last request involved you taking an active interest in Yatagarasu’s life. Is it possible that he was trying to kill you from beyond the grave? Because that is the only way I see this ending, if not at Yatagarasu’s hands, then Fushimi’s.”

     It was possible but highly unlikely. Suoh was usually straightforward about killing someone. If you angered him enough to take action, he would waste no time in letting you know. Only the Colorless King’s unique ability allowed him to hide from Suoh’s wrath for so long.

     “It was a joke,” Awashima clarified.

     “I knew that,” Munakata replied. He’d come to that conclusion a second before Awashima told him as much.

     “…Anyway, Suoh wants you to risk life and limb to look after Yatagarasu, who may or may not have been his lover, and you are at a loss as to how to go about it without alerting Yatagarasu or Fushimi. Does that sum the situation up?”

     Munakata nodded.

     “Do we have any clear threats to Yatagarasu’s safety?” Awashima asked.

     “Too many to list.”

     “Of course. Let’s start with something more reasonable. Our copy of Suoh’s will states that Yatagarasu is to receive full custody of Anna Kushina, correct?”

     Munakata nodded. “But with her record and lack of funds a judge would likely find against her… But we could influence the judge to find in her favor. Anna Kushina would be safer remaining with Homra. They are both aware of the threats against her and have proven capable of defending against them.”

     “Good,” Awashima agreed. “As for the other matter, is there any chance of keeping a discrete eye on the situation from afar?”

     Munakata shook his head. “No. Misaki Yata is remarkably adept at recognizing when she’s being followed. And there would be no way to keep it from Fushimi.”

     Awashima frowned. “I could approach Kusanagi.”

     Munakata raised an inquiring eyebrow.

     “He wouldn’t give us reports or anything on Yatagarasu, but I could make it clear that Suoh charged you with looking after both Yatagarasu and Anna Kushina. Suoh trusted Kusanagi, if he believed that the two of them were in danger he would do what was necessary to ensure their safety—even coming to a rival clan for help if need be.”

     It wasn’t a perfect solution, but with the limitations on what he could do it was the best option available.

     “Do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yata has Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. It can cause infertility along with a bunch of other problems that can range from embarrassing (hairy toes and body) to deadly (increased risk of uterine cancer). I’ve always had it in my head that Yata had reason to believe she was infertile, though I only recently learned about PCOS. It’s why she wasn’t all that worried about using protection with Mikoto, so I didn’t have to write her as a clueless virgin who had no idea how her body worked. This version of Yata lived above a brothel and regularly interacted with the women working there.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, just off the bat, no one in this story is going to be perfect. They have objectives and their methods for achieving those objectives aren’t always going to be nice.


End file.
